


The Orphaner

by twofoldAxiom



Series: Troll Poetry [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Inspired by Poetry, Parody, Poems, Poetry, The Highwayman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 00:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17518364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twofoldAxiom/pseuds/twofoldAxiom
Summary: A song telling a story, partly legend and partly truth, about the Orphaner Dualscar, the beginning of his famed kismesissitude, and his demise.





	The Orphaner

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even remember why I did this but I wanted it done. A troll parody of The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes.

**Part One:**  
When the rain pours red in the morning, alight on the churning surf,  
And the sun is a lurid beacon to the souls between sea and earth;  
When the clouds are a-torn all asunder like lightning striking a sail,  
Then the Orphaner comes sailing,  
Sailing, sailing

Then the Orphaner comes sailing, with his Crosshairs burning pale.

A prince of the deeps in violet, a sailor hatched and honed,  
His horns were as bolts of lightning, his fangs were as white as bone;  
He wielded the Crosshairs sharply, though his scars marred a single eye,  
And despite this, he bore them proudly,  
Proudly, proudly,

He wore those twin scars proudly, so assured he would never die.

And across all the seas had he hunted for lusus and troll alike  
For the acolytes of the Mirthful, and the Empress’ hatching right,  
‘Til the one night he was accosted by the gamblignants in blue  
And he saw her upon the bowsprit,  
Standing astride the bowsprit,

Mindfang stood on the bowsprit, her saber agleam as she drew.

To the sky then she pointed her saber as she taunted him with a shout,  
Her eyes flashed brighter than lightning as her hair in the wind whipped about;  
“This is the Orphaner Dualscar, with the Crosshairs burning bright?  
A blind old cur and a coward!  
A highborn joke and a coward!

Naught but a blind old coward, who can’t raise a sword to a fight!”

His blood burned pitch in his pusher; though he knew too well of her game,  
Her grin set something a-stirring, not all of it pride in his name.  
He laid down the Crosshairs and drew, then, and his own steel blade in his grip  
He swung himself over the rigging,  
Onto her ship, by the rigging,

He landed on deck from the rigging, to silence across the whole ship.

Her gamblignants and his sailors, they stopped in their tracks at the sight,  
As Mindfang jumped from the bowsprit and met him in blade and in spite;  
The clatter of swords sent a message, like a lighthouse beam in the dark;  
The battle renewed all around them,  
Pitch and steel all around them,

A battle within and without them, from which they would ever be marked.

**Part Two:**

But it wasn’t as fated as could be; no, never were they meant to be,  
And the Orphaner knew in his pusher, although he could bear not to see;  
So when it came time that she left him, with the kiss of another troll,  
Spurned did he plan out his vengeance  
A merciless kind of vengeance

Roiling with madness and vengeance, cursed he, "I shall have her soul."

We know how this story is ended, yes, we know how this song must conclude:  
That the Orphaner sought the subjugs and their leader most merry and rude.  
He pleaded and jested aplenty, but the Grand Highblood was unmoved;  
Thus was the weight of his failure,  
The immortal weight of his failure,

The lesson and weight of his failure, ensured as his head was removed.

But though he's recalled in derision, though tarnished remains his name,  
We remember the heat of the loathing that set he and Mindfang aflame,  
And the things that a troll can be driven to do for a passion so dark;  
Take heed of the Orphaner's story,  
Remember the Orphaner's story,

Hold close the Orphaner's story, and may your spade never lose its spark.

...

 _When the rain pours red in the morning, alight on the churning surf,_  
_And the sun is a lurid beacon to the souls between sea and earth;_  
_When the clouds are a-torn all asunder like lightning striking a sail,_  
_Then the Orphaner comes sailing,_  
_Sailing, sailing_

_Then the Orphaner comes sailing, with his Crosshairs burning pale._

_A prince of the deeps in violet, a sailor hatched and honed,_  
_His horns are as bolts of lightning, his fangs are as white as bone;_  
_He's wielding his Crosshairs sharply, though his scars mar a gleaming eye,_  
_And despite this, he bears them proudly,_

_Proudly, proudly,_

_He wears those twin scars proudly, so assured he will never die._

~Troll Alfred Enoch _  
_


End file.
